Shopping for A Billionaire’s Honeymoon—Just 99 cents until January 19th!

Shopping for A Billionaire’s Honeymoon (Book 11 in the Shopping series)

Author: Julia Kent

Release date: January 31, 2017

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance

Description:

He is addicted to his phone and his new role as CEO. I’m addicted to getting some on my own honeymoon.

One of these things is not like the other.

I am pretty sure a serial killer’s lair is the only place in the world where I could stash my new husband so he can’t manage the acquisition of our new company.

And that seems a little drastic.

But only a little...

All I want is one week alone with him. Hours in bed, legs tangled together in ecstasy, room service and long walks on the beach in Hawaii.

Not vying for his kisses around a Bluetooth microphone. The Borg aren’t sexy in real life.

So I’m taking matters into my own hands and hitting “reboot” on our honeymoon.

We’re going to a place so remote that no one can find us.

Not even my mother.

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon is now a full-length book of 150+ pages, with both Shannon and Declan’s points of view. Originally published with only Shannon’s viewpoint, this expanded edition is a result of reader feedback. People wanted to know what Declan was up to – so here you go. This book is meant to be read after Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife and/or Shopping for a CEO’s Fiancée, but if you read it out of order (or even as a standalone), that’s fine. Shannon and Declan forgive you. ;)

Buy links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2idvTWZ
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2hkjFrh
Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/2izYeY4
Amazon Australia: http://amzn.to/2izXJxb
Nook: http://bit.ly/2izRZ6C

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2i1YETg
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hJCZSb
iBooks: http://apple.co/2hKfjdX

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://jkentauthor.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/jkentauthor

Excerpts:

#1

Shannon

Let’s do an inventory of this fine day. My day-after-I-got-married day. In Vegas.

After fleeing my Momzilla mother.

Today is supposed be Day One of my honeymoon after marrying the billionaire of my dreams.

(Let’s not count the night before).

Woke up to the lovely sight of my husband’s tousled dark hair sliding down my torso so he could feast on me for breakfast.

Had actual breakfast in bed after room service delivered mixed berries, cream, bacon, and maple-soaked carrot-cake french toast, and the best damn coffee on the planet from the coffee chain I now own.

Made love with my delightful husband in the giant jetted bathtub in our suite. Turns out I’m as bendy as a Cirque du Soleil performer when I need to be. Maybe Mom’s insistence that I attend all those yoga classes she teaches has a silver lining after all.

Dressed and prepared to hop the corporate jet for Hawaii, kisses interspersed between readying ourselves for the trip. Undressed twice. Dressed twice. Declan insisted I not wear panties for the plane trip.

“But I’m already a member of the Mile High Club,” I’d protested.

“Not as a wife.”

He had a point.

Panties abandoned.

Found his brother, my best friend, a former colleague and an Anterdec chauffeur all married to each other.

Notice something a little different about that last one?

Yeah. Me too.

Day One of my honeymoon had promise, but now? Now it’s a little too real.

We’re on the plane, settling into our seats, and I’m doing my best not to think about my poor best friend and her chaotic mess back at the Anterdec resort where Declan and I just spent nearly a week trying to figure out our entire life.

Which we did, successfully, to my utter surprise. After fleeing our wedding in a helicopter and lying to my Momzilla mother, we managed to get to Las Vegas, ensconced in a resort on the Vegas Strip that Declan had designed himself as an intern in college. By the time my crazy family caught up to us, we’d steeled ourselves for the inevitable fallout.

And got so much more than we expected, in more ways than one. We’re married now. Husband and wife.

That’s really all that matters.

That, and honeymoon sex.

Lots and lots and lots of honeymoon sex. It’s my wifely right to walk funny for the next few days.

And his husbandly duty to make it so.

#2

Declan

It’s criminal what Shannon does to me. We just had sex, spooned and cocooned, breathing in each other’s air and imprinting each other with scent and time.

And yet she makes me want more.

Spread among the mussed bedsheets, she looks like a divine being poured her into the bed, all long, rolling hair and sultry smiles. How can a body smile at me like that? Yet it does. It sings to me, a song of joy and fire that touches the very root of me.

I climb on the edge of the bed and yank her by the ankles, hard, making her squeal.

You know what you do with criminals?

You handcuff them.

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Country Christmas 

A Sweet Romantic Suspense for the Holidays

(Previously Published)

~ Unlikely suspects with misunderstood agendas cripple the horse industry and leave everyone to question the motivation behind senseless killings. ~

A horse killer is on the loose and Doreen McConnell loses a couple of mares to a deadly concoction of frog juice and ketamine. When a wealthy neighbor hires a team of men to track down a criminal, Doreen finds herself relying on a mercenary to guard her farm.

Nick Taylor is standing watch over Doreen McConnell’s Stables, determined to find the person responsible for destroying numerous horses, but when the killer’s poison is used to eliminate Nick’s boss, goals change. Soon, Doreen McConnell’s safety is the only thing that matters. And Nick is certain he can protect her as long as he keeps her in his arms. 

NEW and only 99 Cents

~New Today~

Love, passion, romance, and desire… No matter what your preference, this set of 22 hot and sexy reads has just what you need. From surprise love affairs to bad boys that we can’t help but fall for, and couples that were meant to be, this compilation from Romance Collections is sure to please your every single need.

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Excerpt from Covering the Spread, a Sports Romance included in Sultry Nights. 

“Donna Belfour is waiting for an interview. Apparently, you promised.” Chad Thacker waggled his brows and danced the salsa before straddling a bench in front of his locker. “Says you swore you’d give her what she wanted or owe her a dinner.”

“Ha. That dodge is classic Levermore. He wants to owe her that meal.” Larry Middleton, the star running back, stepped out of the steam shower affixing a towel around his waist before exchanging high-fives with a rookie. “You haven’t heard the oohing and ahhing when she’s on the field?”

“I don’t ooh and ahh,” said Lane.

“I stand corrected.” Larry paused at the mirror long enough to stroke the stubble on his face. “Let me tweak my statement.” He faced them again. “The man drools.”

“Shut up, Middleton.” Chad placed his forefinger over his lips and jerked his head toward the entrance of the locker room. “Bitch has balls.”

About that time, Miss Ballsy Belfour strutted between locker rows with her head high and chest forward. Those beautiful raven curls bounced on her thin shoulders. “What’s it gonna be, Levermore? Do I get that interview or are you buying tonight?”

Lane stuffed his head and arms in his T-shirt, unable to find an excuse. The last thing he wanted was a World Sports front page story. Donna Belfour had a reputation for asking the tough questions. Judging by how the game was set to unfold later, that spotlight would be shining brighter than ever before.

The lesser of two evils looked mighty good from his point of view. If he didn’t agree to the interview, he’d happily make dinner reservations.

“Tell you what I’ll do,” Lane drawled, grabbing Donna’s elbow and steering her away from the lockers. “Choice is in your hands.”

The vixen’s big brown eyes widened. She cocked her hip and crossed her arms. “You’re leaving this up to me?”

“Absolutely.” Why not? He’d been throwing dice all damn day.

Her small nostrils flared. Her cheeks turned a flaming pink. “This is low even for you, Levermore.”

He kept a straight face, but it wasn’t easy. Chad stood behind her and shook his finger in a scolding manner while pushing his chest forward and hip out. For a six-foot-one, two-hundred-and-eighty-pound center, he did a darn good imitation of the five-foot-four spitfire who probably tapped the scales at a hundred and twenty pounds.

“I take it you want the interview,” Lane said, knowing good and well that she’d enjoy their date more. Over the last few years, they’d developed a powerful spark that went way beyond a barely-there mutual attraction. Their sexual chemistry was blatantly obvious to most outsiders. Even the tabloids splashed their headlines with suggestions of romance in the air. Given some of the pictures captured at games and parties, Lane almost bought into the stories, too. Photographs made for convincing tales. They looked like they’d tangled a few sheets together.

“What if I say dinner?”

“Where to?”

She thinned her lips. “I didn’t say dinner, Levermore. I asked, ‘what if’, so I can weigh my options.”

“Which is more important to you?” he asked, deliberately challenging her.

She swallowed. “How about a compromise?”

“I’m listening.”

Cover Reveal for Promises Made

Coming Soon to Painted Hearts Publishing 

Release Blitz for Shopping for a Billionaire's Honeymoon.by Julia Kent

Out Now! - Shopping for A Billionaire’s Honeymoon (Book 11 in the Shopping series) by Julia Kent

Release date: January 31, 2017

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance

Description:

He is addicted to his phone and his new role as CEO. I’m addicted to getting some on my own honeymoon.

One of these things is not like the other.

I am pretty sure a serial killer’s lair is the only place in the world where I could stash my new husband so he can’t manage the acquisition of our new company.

And that seems a little drastic.

But only a little...

All I want is one week alone with him. Hours in bed, legs tangled together in ecstasy, room service and long walks on the beach in Hawaii.

Not vying for his kisses around a Bluetooth microphone. The Borg aren’t sexy in real life.

So I’m taking matters into my own hands and hitting “reboot” on our honeymoon.

We’re going to a place so remote that no one can find us.

Not even my mother.

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon is now a full-length book of 150+ pages, with both Shannon and Declan’s points of view. Originally published with only Shannon’s viewpoint, this expanded edition is a result of reader feedback. People wanted to know what Declan was up to – so here you go. This book is meant to be read after Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife and/or Shopping for a CEO’s Fiancée, but if you read it out of order (or even as a standalone), that’s fine. Shannon and Declan forgive you. ;)

Buy links:

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2idvTWZ
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2hkjFrh
Amazon Canada: http://amzn.to/2izYeY4
Amazon Australia: http://amzn.to/2izXJxb
Nook: http://bit.ly/2izRZ6C

Google Play: http://bit.ly/2i1YETg
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2hJCZSb
iBooks: http://apple.co/2hKfjdX

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://jkentauthor.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/jkentauthor

Excerpt

Declan

It’s criminal what Shannon does to me. We just had sex, spooned and cocooned, breathing in each other’s air and imprinting each other with scent and time.

And yet she makes me want more.

Spread among the mussed bedsheets, she looks like a divine being poured her into the bed, all long, rolling hair and sultry smiles. How can a body smile at me like that? Yet it does. It sings to me, a song of joy and fire that touches the very root of me.

I climb on the edge of the bed and yank her by the ankles, hard, making her squeal.

You know what you do with criminals?

You handcuff them.

Release blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

Release Blitz for The Miss Fortune Series: The Stiletto Scandal (Kindle Worlds Novella)

New +Amazon.com Kindle Worlds

Most people call their local law enforcement agencies when a dead body appears in their yard, but in Sinful, Louisiana? Folks turn to the Geritol Mafia.

Gators, local bad guys, and contract killers keep former CIA agent Fortune Redding on edge but with trustworthy sidekicks and an impossible deputy in her corner, what could go wrong?

Unlikely Suspects…

When a former Sinful resident turns up dead in Fortune Redding’s backyard, Deputy Carter LeBlanc springs into action, but Fortune can’t help but wonder about his motives. Is he afraid a killer will strike again and she’ll become the next victim or is he trying to keep her away from the new man in town? 

Motivated Killers…

Now considered an assassin-in-hiding thanks to an unfortunate stiletto scandal, Fortune has a nice price on her head and unlikely hitmen are in the killing game. With a borrowed identity and new place to call home, Fortune soon discovers Sinful isn’t as it seems. Since her Louisiana arrival, the former agent has been involved in one murder investigation right after the next. And things are about to get a lot worse for Fortune and a few of her closest friends. 

Excerpt 

Dragging tail wasn’t an option.

As soon as I spotted the floater, I tossed aside my binoculars, wiggled my toes into a double layer of warm fuzzy socks—compliments of my good friend Ally—and hurriedly grabbed a tacky pair of wading boots, recently purchased from Walter at the local general store.

After a minute’s worth of hobbles, boots were in place and I was raring to go. First stop, my kitchen table. Scooping up the barely-charged cell phone, I punched Gertie’s contact number and waited. Under normal circumstances, Ida Belle would’ve been the logical first call, but it wasn’t quite six yet. She probably hadn’t unrolled her hair curlers, much less made it out of bed.

“What and where?” Gertie asked. A simple “hello” wasn’t dramatic enough.

Fueling her enthusiasm for mysterious happenings, I said, “My house. Down by the bayou. Emergency meeting. Call it.”

Until the others arrived, I needed to figure out how to secure a body. It wouldn’t be an easy feat thanks to fast-moving rapids. After recent storms, the bayou swirled with the muddiest swamp waters I’d ever seen, not that I was a professional slough-watcher, but I paid close attention to my backyard.

Thanks to a recent dead body discovered there, my place was somewhat of a landmark. Jeanine from Sinful Sightings even pointed it out on her haunted ghost tours, which was disconcerting when I stopped to think about it. With a body count now standing at two and only a couple of months in residency, I was beginning to think that the Louisiana Bayou wasn’t exactly the safest place to lay low and hide.

I entered the back shed, steps away from the slight incline leading to the bayou. Second stop—a supply-gathering mission. 

Thanks to the former homeowner Marge Boudreaux, I’d soon have my hands wrapped around a few body-fishing supplies. Marge and I were kindred spirits, but we never officially met.

Prior to my arrival in Sinful, Marge went on to a better place. Since the Baptist women often said as much, I assumed they meant heaven. Then again, any place beyond Sinful’s city lines might have been considered a ‘better’ place.

At present, I was in Sinful hiding from those who wanted my head on a spike. In order to avoid a painful end, I assumed the identity of Marge’s niece, Sandy-Sue Morrow.

As I rummaged through Marge’s dilapidated shed, I thought of how she might handle towing a body from the bayou. The outbuilding housed an assortment of items that a former CIA assassin could use on the job. Not that I was in the mood to kill, but it was always helpful to have access to the necessary tools of the trade. Goals and situations could change on a dime out here in bayou towns.

As luck would have it, I was about to accept the role of a fisherwoman. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be casting nets in an effort to catch lobster or crab. Tucking rope under my arm and holding fast to garden supplies, I gave Marge two-thumbs up and hurried to the swamp.

From where I stood, the mission was already set in stone, or rather leaning against a cypress. The poor guy had seen better days. Gunk, also known as bog moss, covered his face. A five o’clock shadow and cold, set eyes were barely visible. I couldn’t tell much about his external characteristics. Locals might be able to identify him if I could save him before he became gator bait. 

Shuddering at the thought, I secured the coiled rope against my shoulder and fastened a good grip around the shovel handle. It was the same shovel that I often used to carry wandering frogs back to the bayou. My stomach lurched at the thought of employing the same frog-toting tool to fetch a man. In these parts, women often used extreme measures to reel in a fellow, or so I’d been told. Maybe the old saying derived from situations such as these.

Pushing aside local folklore, I focused on the deceased. With limited resources and a fear of alligators, I wasn’t exactly jumping up and down to save a dead guy. If only Ida Belle were here. I could hand off the rope and see if she had any experience lassoing a corpse.

Walter came to mind. If he stood as living proof, Ida Belle possessed ability but lacked practice.

In any case, until my elderly companions showed up to lend a helping hand, digging was the best course of action, assuming this fellow’s feet were planted in shallow waters. Fortunately, I had a close relationship with this shovel which basically meant I knew how to use it.

Curving my fingers around the wide handle, I cast the triangular end into the water and scooped up the fellow’s heel. Unable to budge it, I opted to go deep and aim for the arch. Maybe I could lift his foot then hook a knee and drag the body to shore. After fruitless attempts, I stepped back and studied the subject.

A crane might do the trick.

If Gertie and company didn’t arrive shortly, I could always phone a friend with connections. Since I didn’t have a lot of those, I’d probably buzz Walter. He knew people and could probably locate a hoist, but he was also Deputy Carter LeBlanc’s uncle. An alerted Walter meant Carter would know about the incident before I had a chance to drag the man ashore and search for some identification. 

Glancing back at the house that had become my Louisiana home, I debated on whether or not my Jeep—Marge’s jalopy—would prove useful in this situation. It was four-wheel drive. Muddy wheels slipping and sliding wouldn’t present a problem.

Then again, I was a DC girl. What did I know about mudding in the bayou? The cowgirl’s rope came to mind once more. What were my options? What was I supposed to do first? Tie off at the dead guy’s neck? If the wrong person saw what I was doing, they might jump to conclusions.

The last thing I needed was to look like an accessory after the fact, if a crime had been committed. Based on an early assessment and my record for stumbling upon bodies, foul play was a given.

Catching movement in my periphery, I slung the shovel over my shoulder and prepared to assault any alligator that dared an approach. On a positive note, the victim didn’t seem too concerned about undesirable critters. On a negative one, I didn’t want to deal with said critters. I rather liked the idea of keeping all limbs attached.

Returning focus to the man in the mud, I made an assessment: Five foot eleven. Maybe a tad taller—or shorter—hard to tell in potty-like waters. Five o’clock shadow—or was that… “Ugh.” I couldn’t think about it. Ice-blue eyes, much like a killer’s. I’d met a few in my time. Well over two hundred pounds. Threat level zero, unless his ghost loitered nearby and then we might have a problem.

He wore a noticeable frown which was to be expected. Dead guys generally didn’t have anything to smile about.

Given his present circumstances, I’d frown too if I had someone like yours truly trying to save my corpse for the coroner. I hadn’t exactly taken care of this poor guy’s body. My goal was to fish it out of the swamp before a gator came along and left behind bits of flesh and slivers of muscle.  

So far, things weren’t going as well as planned.

“Fortune! Where are you?” Gertie’s voice rang out like a trumpet.

As weird as it seemed, given my professional training, I heaved a sigh of relief. The Calvary had arrived. 

About the Author 

Riley Blake writes mysteries, thrillers, and suspense. In addition to writing her own novels slated for release in 2017, Riley enjoys writing for Amazon's Kindle Worlds. When Riley isn't writing, she enjoys cooking, going to garage sales, and redecorating her home with thrifty items. An animal lover, the author has a potbelly pig, a few dogs, a couple of horses, and a chicken named Lord Wings.

Buy Link 

Amazon Page

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Also written by Riley Blake for Jana Deleon's Miss Fortune Series at Amazon Kindle Worlds

Bayou Babes
Hiding in the Bayou
Christmas in the Bayou
Bayou Valentine
The Stiletto Scandal

Available now at Amazon 

Release Blitz for Spirits of the Heart by Claire Gem

A New Haunted Voices novel 

Spirits of the Heart - A Haunted Voices Novel

An addiction counselor and a security guard struggle to free a little girl and her father, two lost spirits trapped inside an abandoned mental asylum.

Addiction counselor Laura Horton returns from college to move in with an old friend and start her career. But her homecoming is jarring. Her friend moves out, leaving Laura alone with the gorgeous but intimidating ex-boyfriend—in a house that snugs up to an ancient graveyard.

Officer Miller Stanford is a man with a shattered past. His alcoholic dad destroyed their family, a weakness Miller is terrified will consume him too. The last thing he needs is a sexy, blonde addiction counselor watching his every move. When he begins to see specters in the dark, he starts questioning his own stability.

But Laura sees her too—a pathetic child-spirit searching for her father. Then Laura starts digging into old asylum records . . . Can Miller and Laura uncover the secrets of Talcott Hall without jeopardizing their love—and lives—in the process?

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/YUa2RALSE

Buy Link: http://mybook.to/spiritsOTH

Excerpt:

Laura Horton’s bad feeling began the minute she pulled up in front of Angie’s puke green, two-story house and parked at the curb.

Not Angie’s house, she reminded herself. Angie’s boyfriend’s house. Although they’d been pretty tight in high school, she and Ang had kept in touch mostly via telephone and email these past few years that Laura had been in grad school. Once, a few years ago, they’d gotten together for their five-year reunion, when Laura had come home to visit her ailing dad.

That was the first time she’d seen the compact craftsman bungalow—after dark—and she hadn’t realized it was such an ugly color. She hadn’t met the boyfriend, Miller Stanford, whom Angie either claimed to love with all her heart, or wanted to eviscerate with a Phillips head screwdriver, depending on the day. Nor had Laura noticed then that the house snugged up tight on one side to an ancient-looking graveyard. The only thing separating the two properties was a narrow strip of grass and a dilapidated, iron fence.

A shiver ran across her shoulder blades as she sat in her car, studying her new surroundings. Her new home.

Holy crap.

Chillier up here. Where’d I pack that hoodie?

She turned to dig around in one of the boxes squashed into the back of her tiny car, quickly realizing it was pointless. Nearly everything she owned in the world—besides a few pieces of battered, old furniture—filled the back seat, and passenger side, of her thrifty Kia. When she’d run out of room for boxes, she’d resorted to folding softer items, like her sweaters and sweats, into new plastic trash bags. Stuff crammed every nook and crevice in the car, leaving just enough space beneath the headliner for her to see out through the rearview mirror.

There was no way in hell she was locating her hoodie in Mt. Clothesmore.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she climbed out and sprinted up the steps to the front door. She hadn’t been able to reach Angie by phone since she’d left Boone, North Carolina the day before, but that wasn’t too unusual. Her friend was a bit flighty, and prone to misplace her phone, her charger, or both. Angie had been juggling courses at the community college with a full-time night job, tending bar at the pub just down the street, for the past two years. Laura couldn’t blame her for acting a bit squirrelly at times.

She reminded herself how nice it was of Ang and Miller to rent her their spare room. When Laura landed the job in Middletown, her initial exhilaration had been tempered by a glaring question: where the hell was she going to live? There was no way she could move into her father’s tiny condo with his new wife, Deirdre. And securing an apartment on her own was out of the question, at least not until after her first few paychecks hit the bank.

Laura squared her shoulders, which were quaking slightly in the cool spring breeze, tipped up her chin, and rang the doorbell.

Twice. She shifted her sneakered feet against the creaky porch boards, folding her arms against the chill. After another long moment with no answer, she rang the bell a third time, holding down the ancient button a full ten seconds this time. She could hear the electronic buzz through the peeling front door, but no other sounds at all.

Angie had to be here—she knew Laura was coming. It was Friday, but Angie’s last term of college ended last week, and it was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon. There was only one vehicle parked in the short driveway, a late-model Ford pickup. But Laura wasn’t sure what it was Angie was driving these days.

Then, she heard the booming, thumping sound. Footsteps? Deliberate, heavy, booming steps. Did Bigfoot live here too?

A dull click, then the tinkle of chain skittering on the inside of the wood. The door burst open. But it wasn’t Angie standing on the threshold.

Laura didn’t have time to suppress the involuntary gasp that escaped from her open mouth.

The man was huge, not only tall but massive, with a broad, muscular chest, one lightly furred with golden hair.  His bulbous biceps were cut, sculpted like a Greek statue. And he wasn’t wearing much more than Michelango’s David, with only a steel grey towel snugged around narrow hips to match the steely glint in his blue-grey eyes.

She blinked and swallowed, stumbling back a step. “Is Angie here?” she asked in a small voice.

The giant snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Who’s askin’?”

Author Bio: Claire Gem

Strong Women, Starting Over

   ~Redefining Romance~

Claire is a multi-published, award winning author of emotional romance—contemporary, paranormal, romantic suspense, and women’s fiction. She writes about strong, resilient women who won’t give up their quest for a happy-ever-after—and the men lucky enough to earn their love. No helpless, hapless heroines here. These spunky ladies redefine romance, on their terms.

Whether it’s a sexy contemporary read you’re seeking, or a thrill ride into the supernatural world of hauntings and ghosts, Claire will take you on a memorable journey.

Her paranormal/romantic suspense, Hearts Unloched, won the 2016 New York Book Festival. Her contemporary romance, The Phoenix Syndrome, won the women’s fiction division in FCRWA’s The Beacon Contest.

A New York native, Claire has lived in five of the United States and held a variety of jobs, from waitress to bridal designer to research technician—but loves being an author best. She and her happily-ever-after hero, her husband of 38 years, now live in central Massachusetts.

Media Links:

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Amazon Author Page

Pinterest

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Release Blitz for Doctor's Orders by Lucy Felthouse

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Spotlight on Legends by Destiny Blake

They may be called out as vampires, but the real monster-in-the-mirror is a

different beast altogether.....

~A legacy from the grave, legends since birth~

Blurb

Prior to their eighteenth birthdays, eight teenagers are summoned overseas. Upon their arrival in The Cook Islands, they begin Summer Assembly, an initiation for transitioning vampires. They train under one of the oldest vampires known to man—Legend Sinclair, who happens to be their father. 

With mixed feelings and new responsibilities, Legend’s children battle with their decision about duty, honor, and saving the world from a sinister global evacuation plan. Their goal is to stop the immoral Entitled Ones who plan to use genocide to regain full control over the world’s population and its unsuspecting citizens. If the elites are successful, they’ll position themselves with old world titles within the New World Order. And millions will die before their reign of terror begins.

Legend and his family will do whatever necessary to stop the Entitled Ones and shine a light on a corrupt shadow government and its evil propaganda. While Legend’s teenage sons and daughter battle between right and wrong, they also come to terms with giving up what they cherished most—high school friends, their North Carolina homes, and a highly anticipated senior year. 

Their rewards will be great if they can expose the corruption behind a reformed world, but their battles are more complicated than they seem. Legend’s family will face off with the supernatural world and discover there are underlying wicked currents driving the onset of a reformed world. 

Excerpt:

Times Square

New York City

Hours later, Legend left the master suite in his rented penthouse. Captive, Griffin, and Saber had depleted the stored blood and were now sprawled out on the living room furniture, watching the evening news.

“All finished with the sibs?” Griffin asked without averting his eyes.

“They had a lot of questions.”

“Did you tell them you murdered our mothers?” Saber asked coolly.

“Who told you that?” Captive asked, shifting his gaze between brothers.

“They’re resting,” Legend said, refusing to say more. “And we need to focus on what’s important.”

“Our moms aren’t important?” Griffin shook his head. “If you ask me, they had a significant role. Without them, you wouldn’t have a small army of killers at your disposal.”  

“You aren’t killers,” Legend said. “And I don’t want to go over this with you when I’ve just done the same with your sister and brothers.”

“What would you call us?” Captive asked.

“Individuals who care about saving mankind.”

“That was your goal, not ours,” Captive reminded him.

“It’s our duty and a privilege as well. The world has been deceived. We are days away from revealing the truth.”

 “Does your version of the truth have anything to do with this map?” Captive tapped the dining room tabletop. “The US is divided up and has seven districts here.”

“Fields.”

“Fields, districts, areas, call them whatever you want, but there are clear lines of division.” Captive slowly lifted his chin and stared into Legend’s eyes. “And like I said, there are only seven of them.”

“That’s right,” Legend said, acknowledging the growing tension. “Dubbed as Legend’s Fields—only because it has such a nice ring to it—these areas will be divided after a win for us and a loss for the Entitled Ones.” 

“Assuming we’re successful and the Entitled can’t reboot the world with one keystroke.” Captive used his index finger and followed a royal blue line from the Southeast corner of the Pacific Northwest to the Northern tip of Texas. He paused there. “This is called ‘The Rest’ and the other fields have more specific names. Why?”

“When it’s time to declare the fields as governed areas, we’ll position leaders at specific geographical points. Anticipated population count determined how these areas were divided on paper.”

Captive slowly lifted his head once more. “You didn’t answer my question.”         

“The Rest marks territories which are less likely to have an uprising. The area is considered a safe zone but these fields have various entrances to underground tunnels and bunkers which may be accessed at another time.”  

“You say that like there’s really no way to stop the Global Shift.” Griffin turned sideways, propping his arm on the sofa’s back. “Do you expect us to fail?” 

“No.” He didn’t want to discuss the fields. The main reason had more to do with the number of fields and how they would be assigned rather than the actual purpose for them.

“What’s going on, Legend?” Captive butted his hip against the table and crossed his massive arms. In terms of physical strength, Captive was Legend’s equal and he seemingly knew it. “Holding out on us?”

 “As questions arise, I try to answer them.”

 “Then let’s start with the obvious,” Captive said. “There are eight of us.”

 “Be sure you want to ask that next question before you do.” 

Captive glanced at Saber and Griffin. They both shook their heads, but he still considered it before he relented and said, “Let’s talk about the fields then. The largest territory…who gets it?”

“Now you’re looking for a fight.” Legend chuckled. “But you’ll be relieved to know that The Rest goes to Sin.”

“Which means she lives,” Saber pointed out, sneering.

“Why would you give her that much open territory?” Captive asked, opting to ignore Saber’s comment.

Griffin joined them and studied the map. “Looks like you’re giving a lot of power to one person.”

Saber didn’t move from the sunken living area. He never looked their way when he said, “She’s a girl. She’ll be underestimated.”

“It’s not worth the risk. Come here and look.” Captive waited for Saber and then trailed his finger between two locations. “Here.” He jabbed his finger at the next stop. “And here.” He looked up at his brothers. “These are two of the main Entitled-owned bunker locations. They fall within ‘The Rest’ which Legend now says will be managed by Sin. She’ll be covering the most dangerous fields.”

“And like Saber pointed out, she will be underestimated.”

“Surely you aren’t banking on a guess.” He pushed away from the table. “Wait a minute. You don’t think she’ll be underestimated. You think she’ll be ignored altogether.”

 “That too.” Legend smiled. “I know it seems like I’m giving her too many responsibilities, but—”

“It’s not the responsibility she can’t handle. It’s the power,” Saber said sensibly. “With great power comes a steep price. What price will she pay? Have you thought about that?”

“Of course he hasn’t,” Griffin said, running his palms across two large masses. “But if it makes you feel better, my money says you and Captive are on the outer territories.”

“Exactly,” Legend said. “She’ll always have the two of you to call upon in the event of my absence.”

“Why? Are you going somewhere?” Griffin always asked too many questions.

“Not planning on it.” And some of his questions couldn’t be answered.

“Okay then,” Captive said, narrowing his eyes. “Still open for questions?”

“Sure,” Legend said, bracing for those he wouldn’t want to answer.

“Why did you send the others home and keep us here in New York?” 

“Can’t wait to hear this,” Griffin said, picking up a travel itinerary from the table. “And why are we seeing the world while the others are preparing for the first day of school?”

“Answer him,” Captive said, a dangerous edge in his voice. 

Legend didn’t like his tone. “The Entitled Ones may know you’ve been turned earlier than expected. You’ll meet Rogue, the vampire who turned me, and he’ll be able to answer more questions about the Entitled.” 

Griffin seemed distant. “So we’re not going up against the Entitled Ones alone?”

“Yes and no. It’s complicated.”

“It always is, but isn’t.” Saber stalked Legend. “You’re using the others as bait. What if these people show up in Legends? Do you honestly think someone like Diven can protect himself?”

“I wouldn’t worry about Diven,” Griffin said. “He’ll kill them with his poetry or one of his boring monologues.”

Legend laughed. “Diven’s one of a kind for sure.”   

“Do you think this is funny?” Captive asked, his face as red as an apple. “Sin and Diven can’t fight an army of elite forces! And you can’t assume Tole and Gideon can hold their own without us!”             “First, the Entitled Ones would never storm Legends with an army. While they do have armies behind them, most of their troops are in Europe. Secondly, I’m touched that you care for your siblings as much as you do but you’ll find that Sin will soon be able to beat most adversaries by using her gifts and physical strength while Diven will always ‘out-smart’ anyone who approaches them.”

Saber grunted. “That’s debatable.”

“You have that much confidence in Sin?” Griffin asked.

“Don’t you?”

“She’s a thin teenager and a girl for crying out loud!” Captive was enraged.

“She’s tall and slender, yes, but Sin is in better physical shape than any of you. She eats right, exercises four or five hours a day and…”  

“And she has a double-shot of your blood running through her veins,” Captive said, undoubtedly putting two and two together. “She never needed a blood transfusion. Did she?”

“She exercises four or five hours a day?” Saber was clearly impressed. “Damn. Remind me not to call her out in a fight.”

 “Sin doesn’t have friends so she spends her time on health and wellness. When she was turned, we better understood her strong will and overall physical strength. While she was easy to turn, she was the most difficult to bring back. She held on to her humanity longer than any of you.”

“Like the way you danced around the blood transfusion bit,” Captive said.

“Yeah, he’s got twirling on his toes down to a science,” Saber muttered.

“Okay fine. Yes, she has a double-shot of my blood, as you put it. She received those transfusions for nearly ten years.”

“Talk about playing favorites,” Saber said.

“Do they know?” Griffin asked. “I mean shouldn’t you tell them that the Entitled may come for them?”

“Sin will figure it out,” Legend said. “But again, the Entitled won’t show up there with an army. They’ll send scouts who will report back to London’s Council. It would be highly unusual for their scouts to approach any of my children.”

“So now we know why they’re at home. Why are we here?” Griffin asked.

Legend tapped the table. “You won’t find your purpose on that map. Your field positions will come at a later date. For now, we deal with the Council. We’re going to Belgium.”

“Why?” Griffin asked.

“Because he thinks we can get one of those vacated seats,” Captive said, rolling the map. “And the beautiful people landed in Brussels yesterday for a ribbon cutting ceremony at their annual rave. Since they’re all in town, they’ll probably meet.”

“Someone watches Tabloid News at Noon.” Legend was pleased. “And yes, a meeting is scheduled.”

“Why is that seat so important if we’re planning to stop the Global Shift?” Griffin asked. “What aren’t you telling us?” 

Legends is available at all third parties 

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